o, I don't say so. I confess I am troubled to find you so
cold in his defence.

LADY TOUCH. His defence! Bless me, would you have me defend an ill
thing?

LORD TOUCH. You believe it, then?

LADY TOUCH. I don't know; I am very unwilling to speak my thoughts in
anything that may be to my cousin's disadvantage: besides, I find, my
lord, you are prepared to receive an ill impression from any opinion of
mine which is not consenting with your own. But, since I am like to be
suspected in the end, and 'tis a pain any longer to dissemble, I own it
to you; in short I do believe it, nay, and can believe anything worse, if
it were laid to his charge. Don't ask me my reasons, my lord, for they
are not fit to be told you.

LORD TOUCH. I'm amazed: there must be something more than ordinary in
this. [_Aside_.] Not fit to be told me, madam? You can have no
interests wherein I am not concerned, and consequently the same reasons
ought to be convincing to me, which create your satisfaction or disquiet.

LADY TOUCH. But those which cause my disquiet I am willing to have
remote from your hearing. Good my lord, don't press me.

LORD TOUCH. Don't oblige me to press you.

LADY TOUCH. Whatever it was, 'tis past. And that is better to be
unknown which cannot be prevented; therefore let me beg you to rest
satisfied.

LORD TOUCH. When you have told me, I will.

LADY TOUCH. You won't.

LORD TOUCH. By my life, my dear, I will.

LADY TOUCH. What if you can't?

LORD TOUCH. How? Then I must know, nay, I will. No more trifling. I
charge you tell me. By all our mutual peace to come; upon your duty--

LADY TOUCH. Nay, my lord, you need say no more, to make me lay my heart
before you, but don't be thus transported; compose yourself. It is not
of concern to make you lose one minute's temper. 'Tis not, indeed, my
dear. Nay, by this kiss you shan't be angry. O Lord, I wish I had not
told you anything. Indeed, my lord, you have frighted me. Nay, look
pleased, I'll tell you.

LORD TOUCH. Well, well.

LADY TOUCH. Nay, but will you be calm? Indeed it's nothing but--

LORD TOUCH. But what?

LADY TOUCH. But will you promise me not to be angry? Nay, you must--not
to be angry with Mellefont? I dare swear he's sorry, and were it to do
again, would not--

LORD TOUCH. Sorry for what? 'Death, you rack me with delay.

LADY TOUCH. Nay, no great matter, only--well, I have your promise. Pho,
why nothing, only